Bean Bag Wars

In the chair.

In the chair.

My husband got me a bean bag chair a couple of years ago. I suppose he wanted to encourage me to sit down now and again.

The chair ended up in my office, where the cat claimed it as his own. The chair grew hairier and hairier. After a while, no one else would sit on it.

A few weeks ago I needed the chair out of the office because I needed the floor space for a project. I took it as an opportunity to clean the chair.

Once it was clean, I moved it to the living room, thinking it might be welcome there over winter, when we spend more time indoors.

I expected the cat to use it too. But he scoffed at it. Instead, he spent weeks in his pre-bean-bag favourite spot on my daughter’s bed.

We’ve used the chair heavily in the living room, and it’s remained delightfully cat hair free.

Until two days ago.

That’s when the cat decided it was time to reclaim ‘his’ chair.

Yesterday, I noticed my cat allergies kick in when I sat in the chair. I did my best to occupy the chair long enough that the cat chose to sleep elsewhere.

This morning I was sitting on the floor when the cat came in. He made a beeline for the bean bag chair. I moved to block him. He attacked with an angry hiss—ears back, claws out.

He backed off, but I couldn’t’ guard the chair all day, so eventually he gained it, and added another layer of fur to it.

This evening I am in the chair, and I intend to stay in it.

The bean bag wars have begun.

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